


With One Accord

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 10:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: Bucky and Steve come to an agreement.





	With One Accord

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here's the thing: I have not read any comics, including Captain America, or delved too deep into any canon. I tend to write what comes to me and try to just be happy when I finish a story at all. In other words this story may be trash or treasure.
> 
> This takes place between "Captain America: Civil War" and "Avengers: Infinity War". This is my first, and probably last, post in this fandom but after watching "Avengers: Endgame" and seeing how little Steve and Bucky talked/touched/laughed/cried with each other can you blame me? I needed something more. I wrote this and now read slashy fix-its now so there ya go...

For a long time there was nothing but emptiness. Cold. Fear. Rage. Before that there was laughter. There was kindness. Love. And now? Bucky’s not sure what exists now. He’s had days, weeks, of silence. Peace. No trigger words ruling his mind, and what a wonder that is. Shuri and her team are amazing, even if she does remind him a little of a sister he thinks he used to have. Becca maybe? Steve would know. Only he can’t ask him. Steve seems so far away now. Lost in a place Bucky can’t reach. He wants to try though. He has to. They don’t have anyone else from their lives before except each other. And he misses him. That’s what Sam said. That Bucky misses him. He supposes it’s true. It must be to feel like a part of him is gone until he sees the other man again. But Steve keeps him at arm’s length. Like he’s too afraid of losing him again.

Maybe he is afraid. But he forgets Bucky is too.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve calls later on a Starkphone. It’s nighttime in Wakanda. The goats are quiet in their pen huddled together for comfort and he thinks about joining them. They wouldn’t mind. They’re so used to his presence now that they wouldn’t even call out a warning…

“Steve.” The name alone brings back so many feelings, so many memories, it’s overwhelming. He’s still not sure if that’s good or bad. If it matters.

“How are you?” Steve is so hesitant these days where he used to be open, honest. He used to be a chatterbox and Bucky could hardly ever shut him up when they were kids. Now he’s quiet more often than not. Too much in his head. “...I was… I. I was thinking about that time Becca was crying cause you were going out dancing with some dame and she wanted you to stay with her. I… I don’t know if you remember that but Becca was the youngest and always jealous of your girlfriends.” Steve stops talking, waiting for Bucky to interject or just for acknowledgement, but Bucky doesn’t say a word, unsure of his place in the conversation. Steve carries on. “ You always told Becca she was you best girl and it would make her grin so big. Cause you meant it. Every time…” Steve sighs. “Becca lived a long life, you know? A good life. She had a husband and a few kids. All boys. Named one of them after you. She said you were the best man she ever knew.”

Bucky sucks in a breath, picturing bouncy chestnut brown curls and an angelic essence that lit up the world. He remembers a little girl who stood on his feet while he twirled her around the floor of their tenement. He had a sister. Three sisters. A mother and father. He had a family.

“The best man I’ve ever known too, Buck.”

“Steve-”

“It’s true. You’ve always been a better man than me.”

“I’m an assassin. I killed people. A lot of people. And I felt nothing. I just… I did it without thinking. It was that easy.”

“You were made to. You think you woulda done any of those things if you had the choice? They had to break you to get you to kill.”

“I killed before them so what does that make me, huh, Stevie?” The nickname slips out unnoticed. “In the war. Before the war. There are things you’ll never know about me. They may have made me a monster but I was living in the shadows long before that.”

He’s not lying. Bucky chased down and beat up more than one bully who hurt Steve when they were kids. When he was desperate for money or food he used his mouth and his hands more than once. He got a dame pregnant and helped her pay a back-alley doctor for some pills that made her so sick she ended up in the hospital, and all he felt when she almost died was relief at her miscarriage. Then shame that she kept their secret. He even remembers kissing another man during the war. A Frenchman who was skinny and short with blonde hair. A man who, when he closed his eyes, reminded him of little Steve. He remembers pulling the trigger over and over again any time a German came close to Steve.

“You were still my Bucky then. You’re my Bucky now.” Bucky inhales harshly at the possessiveness of the words. Does Steve realize what he’s saying?

“I’m not-”   
  


“Yes you are,” the other man whispers. “What you’ve done, the places you’ve been? Don’t make it any less real.”

For a second Bucky doesn’t know what to say. How should he respond to the person who’s always had his heart, but has never laid claim to it? Bucky would rip it out of his chest still beating if Steve asked. Would drop to his knees and worship at his feet. Would sing his praises to the heavens. Anything. Everything.

“I’m trying to say something here, Buck. I just… All these years and you still deserve so much more than me. But I. I want more than this. I need to see you. Can I come visit? Maybe stay for a while? I mean, I’d like to get to know you again if you’ll let me.”

Bucky shakes his head automatically, to this day trying to keep his best friend from harm. He opens his mouth, ready to say no. To stop Steve from breaking his own heart. Instead, “Okay,” slips softly between his lips. He rubs at his forehead, frustrated, disappointed, always stubbornly afraid. He doesn’t understand what happened.

“Okay?” Bucky can not only hear the smile in his voice, he can feel it. 

He blinks slowly. “Okay,” he breathes. He stares at the sky. Steve. Here in this peaceful place. Sharing space. Sharing warmth. He smiles in return. “Okay,” he repeats.

“You know, don’t you?” He doesn’t explain or go into more detail but he doesn’t need to.

“I know. Will you come soon?”

“I’ll call King T’Challa in the morning and figure it out. Until then, can I call you?”

Bucky nods in agreement, unseen but accepting. “Always. You’re my best guy unless that’s changed.” 

“Never,” Steve says fiercely.

Bucky thinks maybe they’re on the same page again after too long. Two people, one soul. Like it used to be. And it feels right. It feels like he’s coming home. Steve held out his hand and Bucky took it. Now life can begin again.

“Hey, Steve?” he calls. “I wasn’t good at talking to you before. No like I shoulda. Let a lot of things go unsaid. But I’m trying to do better. I want to do better by you.” Steve waits patiently. “I love you. I just… I love you.”

“Aw, Buck, I love you too.”

A sniffling sound travels over the wires. He doesn’t mean to make Steve cry. He really doesn’t. But those three words had been waiting a long time to be said and Bucky has put it off long enough. Besides, it’s true. Will always be true no matter how long they live or how many times they die. Bucky will always belong to Steve Rogers.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Just keep hanging on for me. We ain’t done yet, Buck.”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky promises. “Sweet dreams, Stevie.”

“You too, Buck.”

Bucky hangs up the phone feeling lighter. The goats watch him silently, comforted. He almost tells them about the conversation but even if they did understand, they wouldn’t be able to offer any words of wisdom. The future holds too many secrets and they don’t have any answers. He reaches out to one with his one flesh hand, allowing himself to pet the smooth fur slowly. The goat inhales and shifts closer, closing its eyes, content. Bucky nods, thinking maybe that is the answer. Contentment in the present. Living instead of existing. Steve will be coming soon to see him and it’s enough. It's everything.


End file.
